The Summer Before
by PadfootsMoonyPrincess
Summary: The summer prior to what would be Harry's seventh and final year at Hogwarts, finds him in a cloud of uncertainty. A letter from Remus starts questions that Harry had not allowed himself to ask. Will this new development help in the his quest for the re
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters created by JK Rowling's genus.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank Tabra aka Pandora for always being willing to read my writings, even at the roughest stages. You give me far too much credit and support, thank you so much. A big inclusive thank you to all those pals at lit who allow me to rant and rave Harry Potter related talk even though "it's not a Harry Potter chat room".

Dumbledore was dead. Harry began each morning with the same thought. Dumbledore was dead. Slowly sliding out of his bed in "his" room at his aunt's home, Harry pulled his glasses on and shot an absent glance out the window. The early morning sun was obscured by clouds and he could tell that the fog was still there. Since returning to Number 4 Pivet Drive a week before, the weather seemed to mirror Harry's mood. Although both Ron and Hermione had tried to insist upon their accompanying him to his aunt and uncle's home, he'd managed to keep them at bay, reminding them he needed only stay until his birthday. This house was dreary enough to wallow in his own misery without having his two best friends sinking into it as well.

Sighing, he reluctantly moved from the room. Downstairs he could hear the sounds of the Dursleys preparing for the day ahead. The scent of food carried up the stairs to him, his stomach did a lurch. Since returning, food seemed unimportant and held no taste. He forced himself to eat daily, but it was more a mechanical action and one he only pushed through because he knew the tasks ahead of him would require energy and strength.

Trudging downstairs, Harry could hear the muffled sounds of a conversation going on at the breakfast table. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. Aunt Petunia had already made him a plate; Apparently Dudley was no longer on a diet since breakfast consisted of eggs and bacon. He felt his uncle's gaze train on him, but for once everyone seemed content to keep their thoughts to themselves. In fact, since coming back here, they had gone out of their way to keep the peace. Probably relieved that he would be leaving for good at the end of next month, Harry thought. Looking back at his plate, he wasn't surprised to see the food gone. He rarely noticed eating, getting dressed, or any of the other daily rituals he completed without his full concentration.

After putting his plate in the sink, Harry returned to his room and lay back on the bed. Hedwig's cage was empty, he'd let her out the night before to stretch her wings and hunt. He noticed the cage needed to be cleaned, but he shrugged it off. His mind was focused on the thoughts that had occupied his mind since that fateful night. If he closed his eyes he'd see Snape and the flash of green again. He would see Dumbledore's body fly off the castle roof. He would hear Faulk's eerie song. He would remember it all. He would feel it all again. Then, he would hear the prophecy echoing in his head. It all came back to that. His future held only two choices. He could die or he could become a murderer.

Sitting up, he cupped his head in his hands. He knew it had to happen. Voldemort was already too powerful and now that Dumbledore was gone the magical community had little leverage against him. Of course the Order was still in action, but Harry knew their numbers weren't near enough to battle the growing horde of followers of Voldemort. Somehow, he thought, somehow I'll find your horcruxes and I'll destroy them one by one. He knew there was little hope in convincing Hermione and Ron to let him go on this "adventure" alone. It was difficult enough convincing them he'd be alright at the Dursley's until his birthday.

He heard Hedwig outside the window and stood up to let her in. Hedwig flew straight to her cluttered cage and hooted reproachfully in Harry's direction.

"I know, Hedwig," Harry replied the implied complaint. "I'll clean your cage soon." He noticed then that she held a letter in her foot. Tossing a handful of owl treats and making sure she had clean water, Harry removed the letter and sat back on the bed.

Inspecting the writing on the front, Harry realized it was from Remus. He wondered why Remus would be writing to him this summer and suspected it was an attempt to convince him to finish his final year at Hogwarts. Sighing he opened the letter and found another envelope inside with Remus' letter. Now this was odd, he thought. Setting the second envelope aside, Harry read Remus' letter, hoping for some explanation.

Harry,

I'm sorry that this is the first time I've written, but this summer is shaping up to be more eventful than last year and I've found myself busier than normal. I had hoped to find some time to visit with you, but I'm not sure that will be possible, we'll see.

You're summer's been quiet thus far, I hope. You know that should you need anything you can owl me anytime (at least I hope that you know this). I know that this has been a difficult year for you, but you must realize that you are not alone and there are people that you can depend on, even if you aren't currently in their company.

I'll write soon, and I shouldn't need to remind you to BE CAREFUL. Now is not the time to be lax in safety.

Remus

PS…Just as I was about to post this to you, a letter arrived for you from America. I'm sure you'll have many questions, but read it first. I'll be in touch, stay safe.

Harry frowned. America? Who'd be writing to him from America? He turned the envelope over and read the writing on the outside. It had been sent by Muggle post, there was proper postage in the upper right corner. He remembered with a smile the one time that Ron had tried to use Muggle post to send him a letter. You could barely read the address that time. Whoever had prepared this letter was at least knowledgeable of Muggle post. Not only was the postage correct, but there was even a return address.

Ms. Larentia le Fae Dorrington

33 McNeils' Street

Salem, Mass.

Mr. Harry J. Potter

12 Grimmauld Place

London, England

Harry studied the writing and name. Who was this Larentia Dorrington and why was she writing to him? Shrugging off his questions, Harry opened the envelope and pulled out a letter and a photograph. The picture caught his attention. It showed Harry as a baby cradled in the arms of a woman he didn't know. Flanking her as she held his wiggly baby self were two men he was very familiar with. One her right stood Remus and on her left was Sirius. Both were looking down at this strange woman and Harry with a mixture of awe and humor. Her gaze left Harry's face only to smile occasionally at the camera. When she looked up, Harry heard himself gasp. Her eyes caught his attention, what a strange shade of green, he thought. They were so light, so icy looking. This woman, whoever she was, was lovely. Her flame red hair fell in a cascade of curls, disappearing down her back and over one shoulder. She was small, nearly doll-like, Harry thought as he watched her studying his infant form. There was something different about her, but he couldn't really think of what it could be.

Harry forced himself to put down the picture and take up the letter. The same large and feminine handwriting filled the page and as he read, he got a better idea of just who this Larentia was.

My dear little Harry,

I know that you have no idea who I am and you are no doubt wondering who this strange woman in America is and why pray tell is she writing to you. There is no easy way to answer these questions. Well, there is, but I think that the full story should be one told in person.

Perhaps I should at least introduce myself, given that the last time you saw me was your first birthday and you were hardly old enough to have a lasting impression of me. My name is Larentia Dorrington and I was Lily's best friend at Hogwarts. In fact, I was Lily's best friend after Hogwarts as well as your godmother. I'm sure that comes as a shock, or perhaps by this point nothing is a shock any longer. I know that this bit of news brings up many more questions, not the least of which is probably where I've been these last sixteen years. That, I fear, is one of the questions I'll have to answer in person.

This is one of the reasons for my writing this letter to you. I wish to meet you, Harry. That is if you'll agree to meeting with me. I know that I've given you no reason to want to meet me, but I hope that you'll give me an opportunity to explain my absence from your life. Another reason was that I have been notified of Dumbledore's death and I know what a heavy blow this must have been. He was a great wizard, Harry, but more importantly a wise man. I know that losing him so soon after what happened to Sirius must have been very difficult for you. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you during those times. Lastly I thought perhaps it was time for you to receive a few things that James and Lily put in my keep when they took you into hiding. Regardless of whether you wish to meet me or not, I'll send those possessions to you as soon as I'm sure you've been able to receive this post.

I'm sure you're wondering why I didn't send this to your Aunt Petunia's home instead of to Sirius'. I'm quite aware of what a letter from "one of those freaks" would cause in that house. I'd rather you not have to endure any further hardships from your guardians if possible. Please send me your answer as to whether you'll meet me or not. Feel free to use owl post; I just thought my using a non-magic means would be easier for all involved. Be safe, Harry.

Sincerely,

Larentia

PS Should you want to "check me out"; which I'd understand given current circumstances, you should talk to Remus.

Harry sat the letter in his lap and picked up the photograph again. His mind raged at this news. She was his godmother. How could this be and why is this the first time he'd learned of her? Studying her face, he could tell that she cared for baby Harry. There was tenderness in how she cradled him to her and her focus was on him, not the camera or anyone around them. Sighing, he fell back on the bed and tried to decide what he should do. He thought about telling her to forget meeting him, he had to prepare for what lay ahead of him, but something told him not to disregard her that quickly. Harry lay on his bed and for once, when he closed his eyes, he didn't see the terrors that he'd witnessed the past six years.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Harry Potter or anything except the original character in this story.

Author's Note: Thank you all for reading; I hope you are enjoying it.

Hours before Harry sat on his bed contemplating a letter from America, Remus Lupin was struggling to escaper from a nightmare. In one of the upstairs bedrooms of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, the now permanent headquarters for the Order and under a new spell for unplottablity, Remus was tossing and fighting against invisible demons. His face soaked with sweat and heart pounding against his chest, it would appear that he was engaged in the fight of his life. And in some ways, he was.

Remus' dreams were filled with the people he'd lost over the years. He relived his parents' deaths, Lily and James being attacked, Sirius' imprisonment, Peter's "murder", and eventually watching Sirius disappear behind the veil and Dumbledore being laid to rest. They each flashed in vivid detail as Remus lay paralyzed by the events, helpless to do anything. Then he saw _her._ She never blamed him for it; in fact, she didn't acknowledge him at all. That was perhaps the hardest thing. It was seeing those mesmerizing eyes that didn't register even the slightest flicker of remembrance that he fought hardest against. He begged her to remember, remember anything.

Whimpering and groaning, he finally managed to break free from the hold of the dream. Running his hand over his face, he tried to clear his head. He sat up and lit the candle on the bedside table. Checking the time, he wasn't surprised to find that it was still the middle of the night. He'd not been able to sleep well for most of his life, but it had seemed to be getting worse lately. Sighing, he knew he'd not get more sleep this night. He slid his feet to the floor and moved to sit at the desk across from his bed. Taking up a piece of parchment, he decided it was time to write to Harry. He felt awkward, unsure of how Harry would take him trying to comfort him. Remus didn't want Harry thinking he wanted to take Sirius' place, but at the same time felt that Harry needed him. Dipping the quill in ink, he started a simple note to Harry.

It didn't take him long to finish. It felt awkward, stilted almost. Sighing again, Remus felt so unsure of how he should try to help Harry. He thought of what Harry had said at Dumbledore's funeral. He'd not be finishing his education. Remus could hardly blame him; Hogwarts was no safer than anywhere else. Snape and Malfoy's son had proven that with their actions. Leaning his head back, he tried to think of something other than what had recently been occupying his thoughts. The full moon was in two days time, he told himself that that explained his restless mind.

The sun was starting up over the horizon as Remus addressed Harry's letter. As he finished, he suddenly wondered if anyone had looked through the Muggle post that occasionally turned up for 12 Grimmauld Place. Surely the Muggle postman thought it odd that an empty lot sprouted a rundown house, and even more odd that it should get post, but it seemed to happen now and again. Sadly, other than Remus only Arthur Weasley ever thought to go through it. Of course, Arthur found the postage and sorting process fascinating. Seeing as he'd been doing shorter terms on duty at headquarters, Remus doubted the mail had been sorted lately. Setting Harry's letter aside for the moment, he headed downstairs to the foyer table where any Muggle mail was piled until it could be gone through. He noticed that the pile was relatively small, only five or six envelopes. Gathering them up, he made a detour to the kitchen for a cup of tea while he set about his task.

Cup and letters in hand, Remus returned to his room. The house was empty save for him, but members tended to "pop" in at any given minute. Remus preferred the quiet. He preferred his solitude, but he knew that the others needed to gather, needed to be around others involved in the cause. It seemed to help them regroup. Maybe he preferred being alone now more, especially since Tonks had decided that she fancied him. He shut his eyes against the image of her looking so solemn, so heartbroken when he'd tried to explain why it was impossible for him to be with her. She'd never understand, no one ever had or would. It wasn't only about his lycanthropy, although that seemed the easiest explanation to give. No, it was much deeper than that.

Shaking off his thoughts of heartbroken Aurors, Remus picked up the first letter and quickly deduced it was a mass mailing, as were the second and third. The fourth, however, was not only surprising, it made his breath catch. Hands shaking, Remus opened the letter and read anxiously what the author had written.

Remus,

I'm sure that as you read this, your mind is reeling. I know that Grams kept you apprised of my condition over the years and I know that at times it seemed more than hopeless. A year ago, Grams heard from a friend that she had learned of a Healer on a remote island. Grams, being Grams, researched the Healer and his tactics. Satisfied that he could possibly be the one that could offer a positive perspective, she made an appointment and well, it was better than we'd hoped (ok, better than she'd hoped, since I was in no shape to really care). It took a year, but I'm me again.

Well, I'm me with a few new memories, and new losses. Although most took place years ago, I've found myself feeling like I lost them all at once. Dear Merlin, have you any idea of what it feels like to recover so much and yet lose so much all at once? It was rather difficult, I'll admit, but at least I'm capable of grieving and remembering.

Grams told me that you'd been in contact with her since I'd returned to America. Your concern for my condition only strengthened her belief in what a "good boy that Remus Lupin is". She regaled me with stories of how she had to keep Sirius at bay while he was on the run from the overworked Aurors of Britain, apparently he was convinced he could bring me back (who told him I was a modern day "Sleeping Beauty", I wonder?). She tells me that she caught him far too many times trying to wake me with a kiss, first to my lips, then my eyes, my hand, she hastens to add that she hopes that he was gentlemanly enough to keep it above the neck (I know you're blushing, Remus, so did I). Which only strengthened her conviction that "that Sirius Black has less common sense than a puppy" (oh if she only knew). I wish I'd been able to know that he was back. I would give almost anything to see him one more time, to touch him, but that's one of the many things I have to get used to I suppose. I can't tell you how many times I've thought of something that I wanted to owl Lily about, only to realize I couldn't. I wanted to thank you, Remus, for staying in contact. It means so much, knowing that you're still here.

I won't lie; it hasn't been easy to wake up now. Grams kept all the news relating to Harry, and I've devoured every inch of print that mentions him. What he's gone through, what he's had to face in his short life, upset doesn't seem strong enough to describe how I feel when I see what he's had to contend with. I should have been there for him, but instead I've been asleep, untouched by the passing years, unaltered by the events of the years, unknowing of the world around me. My waking seems to be both a blessing and a curse, Remus. How can I rectify being absent for so long? How can I fulfill a promise made to my best friends, to a baby I fell in love with at first glance? I've missed so much, failed to be there to get to know him. He'll hate me, won't he, Remus? Voldemort took so much from all of us, but he took the most from Harry.

I'm sorry, this isn't your problem and I shouldn't burden you with my worries. What started as a "Hey guess that's awake?" letter has turned into my ramblings of a fearful witch. I will ask you one favor, if you can find it in your heart to agree. Please, answer any of Harry's questions about me, at least those that you can answer. He knows you, Remus, I'm nothing more than a woman in a picture (I've included a picture in the letter I'm posting to Sirius' house along with this one. It's the one of you, Sirius, Harry and me on the day following his birth. I thought it would help him know that I wasn't lying about who I am.). I want to meet him, if only to give him the things that Lily and James gave me to keep for him before they started into hiding. It's time, I think, that Harry and I meet. I need to see him, if only to convince myself that he's really still here too.

I hope that this letter reinstates our past pen pal status, Remus. I found myself missing you more and more over this past year. I hope that you're doing better during your "time of month" (I'm very sure you're blushing at that use of words. You must admit, it's better than your "furry little problem". I wonder do you still have the stuffed bunny in a cage that growls that I gave you Christmas of our seventh year.) . I remember how I used to anticipate your letters while I studied for my "consulate" position in the Ministry. I hope to be able to travel within the next few weeks, so perhaps we can see one another soon. I miss you, Remus.

I suppose I've kept you long enough. I'm sure you're rather busy with Order business, so I won't keep you longer. If you prefer to owl me a letter feel free, I just suspected that owls were more likely to be intercepted than "disgusting Muggle post". I hope to hear from you soon. Good-bye.

Always,

Tia

PS….I suspected that perhaps you'd forgotten what I looked like, or perhaps you might be curious of what I look like now, so I included a picture that Grams insisted she take after I started "being more like my old Tia".

Remus found himself smiling at the letter. She always managed to have her letters sound like she was right there beside you telling you what you were reading. He chuckled at her theory that he'd forget what she looked like. As if he could ever forget her. He looked inside the envelope and there it was her picture. His hands were still shaking as he removed it. His eyes drunk her image in and he felt his heart clench at seeing her awake. He wasn't too shocked to see that she hadn't changed much, that was one of the more baffling side effects of the curse that was put on her, but it was one that he'd been informed of. Tia, Lady Tia, to be more exact, he thought smiling. Merlin, how long had it been since he'd thought of her as Lady? For too long his only thoughts of her were how depressing the chances of her awakening were looking.

For almost sixteen years she'd been suspended in a sleep state. He remembered when they were first told of it happening. How Sirius had been furious that she'd gone to the estate alone. How Lily was so sad at being unable to even visit her sleeping form. How James was frightened how close Voldemort was getting to their inner circle. Even little Harry, just having turned one, seemed to pick up that something was amiss. He'd asked repeatedly for "An Tee, "his toddler equivalent of "Aunt Tia". Mostly he remembered how he'd felt lost, totally and utterly lost and helpless. If Tia could be taken, then no one was safe. Mostly they all wondered why she wasn't simply killed, but Dumbledore reminded them that death would have been easier to accept for everyone. It was surely more troubling for Tia to be suspended, not living but not dead either. It was torture for all of them, he remembered. Visiting her, talking to her, holding her hand, but knowing she knew nothing of what was going on around her. He'd left after every visit aching to his core. When Grams had decided that perhaps it would be safer to move her back to America while they searched for a cure or counter curse, it almost made it easier on everyone. He'd tried to move on, keeping busy with small assignments for the Order and his futile searches for work that he could manage with his disease. Then when James and Lily really went into hiding, using a Secret Keeper and taking much deeper precautions, it served as a reminder for losing Tia. Their deaths destroyed all that was left. Sirius to Azkaban, Peter "murdered", Lily and James dead, and Harry gone to the uncaring Muggles, in a matter of days his whole world crumbled.

Lost in his thoughts, Remus nearly didn't notice Hedwig pecking against his window. She'd begun this ritual when Sirius returned. Harry and Sirius tried to use other owls, but Hedwig still managed to figure out where the letters were going, then she kept coming back. Remus smiled smart bird. Opening the window, he offered her an owl treat. He went back to the letters and saw that the next envelop in the stack was the one from Tia to Harry. Sighing he added a post script to his letter and put Tia's letter in with his. Handing the letters to Hedwig, he ran his hand along her head and told her that the letters were meant for Harry. He watched as she flew from the window and out of sight into the fog.

Picking up his cup of tea once more, Remus let his thoughts drift back to his time at Hogwarts and a certain redhead with icy green eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Twelve months before Remus opened a Muggle posted letter in Grimmauld place, a letter was delivered across the ocean to America by one of the Hogwarts' school owls. A second letter came moments later by a gorgeous white owl. The house they were delivered to looked no different from the others on the well maintained street in a quiet suburb of America. The paint was a pristine white, the shutters the perfect shade of midnight blue, dark enough to be mistaken for black. The walkway leading to the large inviting porch was lined with lilies and tulips in reds, oranges, and whites. The porch itself had hanging pots overflowing with lavender and lilacs. The lawn was perfectly mowed, the house's exterior perfectly kept. Nothing would make a stranger think that anything tragic had ever or would ever happen at such a lovely home. Unfortunately they would be wrong on both counts.

The owls had dropped their letters into the hand of a small, elderly woman with white streaked light red hair held up in a tight bun. She was seated at the large dining room table all alone when the owls flew in through the open window that she was facing. After receiving the letters, she rewarded each bird with an owl treat before they flew off on their long journey home. She glanced at the handwriting on the outside of the letters then went back to her breakfast.

When she'd finished her breakfast, a house-elf appeared to clean the table and ask if she needed anything further. She shook her head and picked up the letters before starting up the stairs toward the slightly ajar door at the top. Walking into the room, she smiled when she saw that one of the elves had replaced the flowers by the bed with fresh lavender and lilies. The curtains were open and the windows opened to allow the early morning breeze in. The house-elf had also taken the time to change the bed linens on the large four poster bed. She moved to the comfortable chair she'd had moved to the room and had positioned near the head of the bed. Before she opened the letters, she looked at the young woman who lay still as death on that bed. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she reopened them to see that Larentia still slept. Her granddaughter hadn't shown any signs of awakening for fourteen years now.

Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, but it was deeper than that, all the Healers agreed on that much. She remained unfazed by the passing years, as though her body, her person remained frozen in time. Her hair was still fiery red and curled down to her lower back. Her face was unmarked by lines or wrinkles that others her age were now showing. Her hands lay clasp on her stomach, and the sapphire and moonstone ring that circled her left ring finger still gleamed as new as the day it was given to her. Monora couldn't remember how many Healers, Muggle doctors, and others she'd consulted about Tia's condition. No one felt that there was much hope of her waking from this sleep. No one could even be certain of what had caused it. They couldn't really pinpoint anything at all. It could have been a potion, a curse, a spell, or even a combination of some sort. The Muggle doctor insisted on intravenous feeding and she'd agreed. Now a few times a day a nurse appeared to check her granddaughter's condition, change the solution that constantly seemed to be dripping into her, and made sure that Tia was being exercised while in her "coma".

Monora studied her Tia's face for a few moments before realizing that she was still holding the two letters in her hand. Sighing, she picked up her reading glasses from the bedside table and opened the letter from Hogwarts first. Her hand was shaking by the time she read through the letter the first time. Finally, her dear friend Albus had found someone to help with Tia's situation. Her heart beat faster and she felt something that the Healers and others had kept pushing back down, she felt hope. A bright smile broke out on her face as she looked back at Tia lovingly. Soon, she thought, soon my darling girl, you will be awake soon. Setting the letter from Albus on the side table, she refocused on the other letter.

She recognized the handwriting immediately. Remus Lupin, what a nice young man he's turned into, she thought as she broke the seal and opened the letter. Not at all like that deviant, her thought stopped in its track when she read the first line of the letter. Oh dear Merlin. She closed her eyes to hold the tears that threatened to fall at bay. Taking a moment to gather her emotions, she opened her eyes and started to read.

Grams,

It pains me to write this letter more than you'll know. Sirius Black is dead. That sentence, regardless of how many times I shall write it, still seems implausible. I suppose it's because it's still new, but I feel certain that it shall never feel real. I'm sure you are wondering how this happened, under what circumstances. We were called to the D.O.M. last night, there was a breach and our group was needed. Sirius insisted on accompanying the group when we learned that Harry and a group of his friends were also there. We were engaged in an altercation and in the midst of the fray, Bellatrix, Sirius' cousin hit him with a spell and he fell back into the veil (given your husband's former occupation, I feel no need to go into further detail). Harry is fine, well as fine as he can be expected to be. I expect I'm still in shock, but I assure you I'll be fine. Kiss Tia for me, please.

Sincerely,

Remus

She sat still for a few moments after finishing reading to let this new blow sink in. Sirius Black dead, how could it be possible? How could it be when he was here only a few months earlier? How he'd made a nuisance out of himself convinced all Tia needed was a good kiss from the likes of him. Morona shook her head, certain that this was all a bad dream, but even more certain that this was the first of many letters of ill wind to come. It was almost as though Voldemort had never been defeated. He'd just been postponed until his supporters could bring him back to start again to start the terror anew. She looked down at the still sleeping form of Larentia and knew that she could waste not a moment more in getting her to the help that Albus informed her of. Harry needs her, and by Merlin, Morona was going to be sure that Tia was there for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry sat at his old scarred desk illuminated only by the soft light of the lamp. A blank piece of parchment lay expectantly before him. He twirled the quill in his fingers, absently wishing that the letter would write itself. Sighing, he dipped the end in ink and started.

Remus,

Sorry I haven't written sooner. It's been quiet here so far. I'll be happy when I can finally leave for good. Hope you're doing ok. I guess that things have been busy after what happened at Hogwarts.

So, about this Larentia person, who is she? Why is she saying she's my godmother and why is she suddenly contacting me now? Where's she been for the last sixteen years? I've been studying the picture she sent, and I can tell that you and Sirius knew her. Why didn't Sirius tell me about her? Why didn't you?

Her letter says that she wants to meet me. I'm not sure if I should or not. She might be a Deatheater for all I know. She says that Mom and Dad gave her stuff to give me. Sounds like a trap to me. She also said I could ask you about her.

Stopping his writing, Harry tried to get his anger under control. Why did it seem that people were always keeping something from him? Why did he have to find out that there were things about his past that he'd only learn about when someone else decided he was ready? He ran a hand through his hair and wondered if he should even bother finishing the note.

The picture she had sent with the letter was propped up against his desk lamp. Every now and then he could see her peek up at the camera, while his baby self grasped her finger. He watched as Remus and Sirius watched her. He wondered again how they all fit together. Maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she really was his godmother. Maybe she did have things his mom and dad had left with her for him. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes and realized that if he didn't talk to Remus, none of his questions would be answered.

He heard a rustling against his window and shifted to look out. With the light from the desk lamp behind him, he could see only his own reflection. The rustling could be heard again, this time accompanied by a muffled knock. Wondering what or who could be at his window at this hour, Harry cautiously stood and drew his wand. Underage wizard or no, he would not risk being unarmed in case one of Voldemort's supporters decided to take "The Boy Who Lived" fate in hand.

He walked slowly and purposefully to the window, wand at the ready and pressed closer to see what caused the knocking sound. He jumped back when his eyes lined up to another set outside the window. The knock sounded again, this time accompanied by the sound of a voice through the glass. Harry looked closer and realized that it was Remus hovering on a broom outside his windowsill.

Taking a deep breath, Harry took a moment to let his heartbeat regain normalcy before opening the window to let Remus enter. Stepping back, he waited until Remus settled both feet on solid ground before asking him why he'd come.

"I'm sorry for arriving without forewarning, but I realized that this might be one of the few chances I have to get away before the next full moon." Remus answered quietly, careful to keep his voice down so as not to wake up the Muggles that slept in the nearby rooms.

He sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and propped the worn broom against the edge of the bedside stand. Harry noticed that he looked even more tired than the last time he'd seen him. The full moon must be unbearable now that Snape wasn't making the Wolfsbane. Not to mention the tasks that members of the Order must be taking on themselves to keep Voldemort and the Death Eaters at bay. Sighing, Harry sat back down at the desk.

"I was just starting to write you a letter actually," he admitted, gesturing toward the parchment laid out.

Remus noticed the picture propped against Harry's lamp. Dear Merlin, were they ever that young? If he closed his eyes, he knew that he'd see that day, the day after Harry was born in vivid color. How happy Tia was to see the baby, how proud Sirius had been of his godson, how Remus was overjoyed that his friends weren't too frightened to have him near their precious bundle. For once, he remembered, Tia had sat in front of the camera instead of her usual place behind it. Blinking, he realized that Harry was studying him, waiting to ask him the questions he wasn't sure he could answer, but that he promised that he would answer.

"I suspect that the letter from Larentia was more than a little shocking." Remus said with no hint of teasing. "Trust me when I say that I had lost hope of ever reading words penned by her hand again."

Harry considered this, knowing from her letter that she'd been gone for close to sixteen years, and couldn't stop from asking why. Why had she been gone so long? What had happened to her? He leaned forward and didn't disguise the feeling of hurt and anger of not knowing that he had a godmother, regardless of where she'd been.

"Harry, please understand there are things that I could not tell you, things that were not my place to tell you about. It wasn't that I didn't want to; it wasn't that I didn't think you should know. It just wasn't my place." Remus said with a sigh. Harry knew this wasn't easy for his father's friend. He also knew that he was the only one who could answer his questions at this point, for he did not intend to agree to meet someone he didn't know anything about, except for what she'd told him herself.

"When we were at school, your parents, Lily and James, Sirius, and me, there was another member of our group. No, not Peter, I deliberately left him out. The other member was an American girl. Her parents were originally from England, and she was born here, but her father took a position at the American Magical Embassy. Her name was, as I'm sure you've already guessed, Larentia le Fae Dorrington. Does the name mean anything to you, other than what you learned from that letter I mean?" Remus asked, waiting.

Harry shook his head, "The name sounds familiar, but I don't know which part or where from."

Remus nodded, understanding. "The part of the name that is familiar is probably 'le Fae'. That was the surname of King Arthur's sister, Morgana, the Lady of the Lake of Avalon. Some say she even enchanted the first Merlin, making him fall in love with her, and using that love to destroy him. I hazard a guess that you may have heard it from a Chocolate Frog card." Remus chuckled, thinking that learning such history of the origins of magic from a candy card wasn't how education should be. He knew, however, that Professor Binns preferred the Goblin Wars to true history any day. "Larentia, Lady Larentia actually, is a direct descendent of Morgana. It wasn't something she was overly proud of, but it was a part of her nonetheless."

Harry tried to listen patiently, but honestly, he couldn't understand why knowing her family tree could be important to knowing who she was. He thought about Sirius' family tree and confirmed it in his mind that bloodline didn't matter in an individual.

"I'm sure you are wondering what this has to do with Larentia and her connection to you, Harry. I know that you are aware that blood means very little to real witches and wizards, but it will help you understand where she has been for the last sixteen years." Remus replied, answering Harry's unvoiced issues with the background. "Tia's maternal grandmother was very proud of this ancestry and spent the summer break forcing the importance of it on Tia. It was only another reason for Tia to push it farther from her, but then in our fifth year, Tia's parents were killed. They were visiting some "half bloods" near their home in America when they were all attacked. Her parents, their friends, and two neighbors were killed in the attack. Tia, of course, took it very hard. While it was a time of mourning, her grandmother pressed Tia to live with her and continue the study into their 'great and noble ancestry'. Sound familiar?"

Harry gulped, remember Mrs. Black's portrait spouting on and on about the "great and noble" line of Blacks. He nodded, wondering what his godmother did.

"Tia rebelled; she chose to live with her paternal grandmother, who we all called Grams. This caused a great riff between Tia and her other grandmother, who declared her disinherited and disowned. Tia really didn't care, she was happy living with Grams and closer to all of us during the summer. Grams could care less about the bloodline, all she cared about was the love that she felt for Tia and how she wanted her to be happy in spite of the tragedy that caused the loss of her parents." Remus paused, gathering his thoughts. "When we finally finished at Hogwarts and started out in the 'real world' it was a bit surprising when Tia decided to follow in her father's footsteps, working in the political part of the magical community. She studied for a position of "consulate" and we all kept in touch. She and Lily were very close, being so different from those of us who were raised in the magical community of England; they bonded over what made them different from us. When Lily married James, Tia was right there beside of her. Taking the spot that Petunia turned down as bridesmaid."

Harry interrupted, "Why wasn't she in the photo album that Hagrid gave me? There aren't any pictures of this Larentia in that whole book."

Remus sighed again. "Tia preferred taking pictures to being in them, which is something I'll let her explain to you. Should you choose to meet her that is. Most of those pictures in your album were taken by Tia. She loved capturing memories. She used to say that you never knew when you would forget, so you had to make certain to keep mementos to remind you." He smiled, remembering Tia bustling around them, clicking the camera that was her constant companion at the oddest moments. "She used to take pictures of everything, that picture there," he pointed at the photo on the desk, "was one of the few times she didn't put up a fight about having her photo taken. While we all reveled in James and Lily's marriage, your birth was an even higher point. We were all so taken by you, Harry." He looked straight at Harry. "You were a sign that we had a future, all of us."


	5. Chapter 5

As Remus was trying to explain the past to Harry, on another continent a young looking woman stood watching the sun rise from an open window in a well kept white house on a very quiet street. The sun's light glowed in her icy green eyes and bounced off her fiery hair. She shivered slightly in the predawn air, her simple white night gown offering little protection from the chill. She stood still, not moving to find her robe, but watching intently as the sun rose.

"Larentia le Fae Dorrington, get away from that window this instant!" Her grandmother's voice broke the silence of the morning and sighing, she turned to face the strongest person she knew.

"Grams, a little chill will not kill me. I've been through far worse, after all," the young woman, Tia, offered. She moved toward her grandmother anyway, and didn't resist as she was rustled into a warm terry cloth robe.

"I'm not worried, I just, well you don't need a cold now is all," Grams stumbled, still not sure of how to address her granddaughter's "condition". She reached under the neck of Tia's robe and pulled her loose braid out. "You've been gone so long already."

Tia knew that her sleep was difficult for the people who loved her. She had missed so much, and had awaken into a world very different than the one she'd left behind and very similar as well. She moved to the small table set up away from the window and noticed that Grams had had one of the house-elves bring up tea and toast. Setting down, she found herself wondering yet again, what the man she'd loved was doing at this moment. As she added strawberry preserves to her toast, and sweetened her tea, Grams settled in on the other side of the table.

Clearing her throat, Grams feigned casualness as she said, "I heard from Remus last night."

The piece of toast dropped silently to her plate and was forgotten. Her breath caught and she waited, hoping her grandmother had news, more to tell her about Remus and his life as it was today.

"He received your letter. It came as quite a shock, and he wondered why I didn't let him know you'd woken, or that we'd found someone who could help you." She sipped her tea, letting Tia, think about Remus and his worry.

Tia sat for a few moments upset that she'd worried Remus more than necessary. She sighed and her eyes burned with tears. Remus, out of all of her friends, he was the person she most worried about. He needed the stress of her "condition" even less than everyone else. He had his own condition to worry with after all. Her hands fell to her lap and she studied her grandmother waiting for her to continue.

"It's not been easy on him, these years that you've been," Grams stopped, searching for an appropriate word for Tia's condition. "Indisposed. The world hasn't been any more agreeable toward people with his problem and adds to that the loss of his dearest friends. Tia, I'm not certain if Remus is really ready for you to be awake. I'm not sure he'll ever be ready."

Taking a deep breath, Tia nodded at Grams, understanding how her awakened state, especially now, could be an added burden on a man who needed no further hardships. She wondered how he looked. Had he aged well or had his scars only deepened with the lines of age? It was hard enough imagining Sirius, had he still been alive, growing older, but Remus? Dear, sweet Remus.

"Should I have not written him, Grams? Should I have let him found out about me only when or if Harry agreed to meet me? Would that have been better?" Tia implored, hoping that she hadn't been horribly wrong in writing to her old friend.

Grams smiled sadly. "I don't think it was wrong of you to reach out to the one thread left of the life you left. I just think that perhaps I should have given him some sort of sign that we had this new hope." She reached out and took her granddaughter's pale, cool hand. "I know you miss them, all of them. I know that Remus is the last link to the life you left. You just have to prepare yourself for the fact that he wasn't frozen in time as you were."

Tia squeezed Gram's hand. She smiled back, with tears glistening in her eyes. And for the first time, she wondered if waking up was really in everyone's best interest.


	6. Chapter 6

Remus and Harry's talk lasted well into the early morning hours. Larentia wasn't a topic that was easy to discuss for him, but he knew that Harry needed to know the circumstances of her sudden disappearance and reappearance. His heart clenched as he went through the events that led up to her suspended state. Harry, for his part held back his questions, realizing how difficult this was for Remus.

"It was the day after we celebrated your first birthday. Tia was practically glowing watching you open your gifts. She'd taken a break from her preparations for a future position as a consulate in the Ministry. We hadn't seen as much of each other as we had while in school, but we'd always stayed in touch, all of us. Grams had her house elf, Minnie make a miniature cake for you to tear apart and a larger one for all of us. There was such happiness that day. I just wish that we'd all appreciated it more while it was happening, for it was one of the last times that we'd ever have that kind of joy." Remus' eyes were stinging, recalling how she'd looked in her pearl gray robes with her bronzed curls piled up on her head. He'd watched her holding Harry, threatening Sirius with a hex if he dared to take Harry near the flying motorbike while she was there. Her eyes had sparkled in the sun and she looked just like her fairy ancestors.

"I didn't know none of us did, that her grandmother had summoned her to the le Fae manor for later that evening. I'm sure she knew that we'd protest. While she didn't appreciate her grandmother's theories on her upbringing and where her loyalties should lie, it had always upset her that they'd been so distant. We had warned her that there was evidence showing that her grandmother was a supporter of Voldemort, but she said she was still family." His eyes flashed remembering how stubborn she had been about not being like her grandmother, not letting rumors and loyalties rule her feelings of family. "She left near dusk, saying she had to return to her flat to work on a few things for her morning at the Ministry. Sirius and I both offered to escort her home, but she refused, saying she would be fine and that she didn't want us to end our evening simply because she had to."

Remus' memory took over, remembering how she'd kissed each of her friends' goodbye before hugging and kissing Grams and cuddling Harry. Then she'd Disapperated from their party and that was the last time anyone saw her conscious. His fist tightened involuntarily as he recalled the summons of Dumbledore for Sirius and himself. They were told that the Dark Mark had been witnessed hovering over le Fae Manor and he sent them out before the Aurors were sent.

"We got there as soon as possible. I knew immediately that something was wrong. Tia often said that her grandmother was meticulous about her wards, yet there were none activated when we arrived. Sirius and I entered the front doors with our wands drawn and were shocked to see the amount of controlled havoc awaited us. There were dozens of house elves laying dead in the front rooms. Apparently they'd been summoned and killed quickly." His eyes closed, as he shuddered, remembering the tiny bodies scattered about like toys tossed aside by a spoiled child. "As we inspected each room, we realized that there was something odd about the murders. Nothing was touched. None of the impressive belongings had been rummaged through, nothing of value removed. We moved to the upstairs, certain that what awaited us there couldn't have been as disturbing as the scene below. We were wrong, Merlin, we were so wrong."

He remembered how he'd followed Sirius up the winding staircase. The portraits on the wall seemed in shock, for none spoke, yet all their eyes followed the two men as they made their way upstairs. The first doors held nothing other than immaculate bedrooms and lavatories. At the fifth door, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He knew, could tell that whatever was behind this door wasn't going to be easy to see. He had no idea how truly correct he was. Sirius opened the door and what greeted them caused shouts to erupt from both.

She'd been bound to the bottom two posts of a large four poster bed. She hung limp from the cords holding her arms, her hair fallen around her face, hiding her features from them. On the floor before her lay her grandmother, a smirk on her frozen face. Remus knew before checking that Grandmother le Fae was dead. It was obvious she was a victim of the Killing Curse. Sirius had been frozen in shock and made no move toward Tia. Remus forced himself forward, uttering prayers under his breath. He knew it would be a miracle if she were still alive, for Death Eaters weren't known for leaving witnesses. He gently lifted her chin, pushing back the curls from her face. She wasn't dead, he knew at once. She wasn't responsive either.

He told Sirius and the growl that he let out was both of fear and gratitude. Tia was alive, but she would not wake up. They removed the bindings and carefully lowered her to the bed. Unsure of what to try to get her to come to, they agreed that Hogwarts' hospital wing would be the best bet. There they'd have less of a chance of questions. Remus pressed for Sirius to go first, to prepare Dumbledore of his and Tia's arrival. After Sirius Apparated, Remus gathered Tia into his arms, and murmuring into her lavender scented hair he promised her that they'd find a way to bring her back.

Looking up at Harry, he realized that his best friend's son looked shaken. "We didn't realize that whatever had taken place in that room at her grandmother's home had pushed her out of the realm of magical and non magical medical skills. Madame Pomfrey tried for hours to discover the curse that could have resulted in "living death". St. Mungo's was consulted, and they researched potions, curses, hexes, anything within their knowledge. Grams even called in a Muggle physician. They tried to convince her that Tia's 'coma' was permanent, and other than keeping her comfortable, the only other aid would be feeding her with a tube and hooking up obnoxious machines to monitor her. Grams was afraid that those who'd gone this far to harm Tia would come back to finish their work, so she chose to move her to America. That's where she's lain for 16 years, Harry. In a room, in her former childhood home, she was looked over by doctors, mediwitches, and house elves, not to mention Grams. Honestly, I think everyone but Grams gave up hope of Tia regaining consciousness."

He sighed, looking out the window. Merlin, he really had given up hope. Tia was one of the lost in his memories. He'd kept that last scene of her at Harry's birthday locked away, certain that it was the last time she'd ever be animated.

Harry broke his reverie. "But, she's awake now and wants to meet me. Are you sure it's her?" He sounded unsure, not cynical or jaded, but like a child who didn't want to get his hopes up for a new toy that he had no chance of getting.

Remus smiled and returned his gaze to Harry. He reached into his robe and pulled out the picture she'd sent him. He silently handed it to Harry. Harry took it and gasped as he realized that it was the same woman from the picture Tia had sent him. She looked unchanged, as though the photo had been taken moments after the one taken when he was a baby. She barely moved, but he could see that her eyes looked different, tired and haunted. She was sitting on a porch, surrounded by lilies and lilacs. Her hair was as long as before, only those icy eyes had changed.

"This is a new picture?" Harry asked, almost sure of the answer. Remus nodded, watching as Harry drunk in the photo almost as he had. "I, I think I should meet her. She says that my parents left things with her for me, and that she would return them even if I didn't want to meet her, but I think I should." Harry sounded sure, but pleading as though he wanted Remus to assure him that it was a good idea.

"I think you should," Remus agreed. "Tia is someone who would not have willingly left your life, Harry. She was forced from it."

Harry was silent, watching the woman in the photograph as a slight breeze blew her hair and her haunting eyes stared into his.


	7. Chapter 7

-1"Tia, stop fussing, you look lovely as always." Grams whispered as Tia made finishing preparations in front of a full length mirror.

Her hair was piled high atop her head and her green eyes were highlighted by the soft mauve of her summer dress robes. Her image in the mirror proved Grams was correct, but she continued to fidget with the curls framing her face.

Grams' hand reached out and touched Tia's, stilling her. "It'll be fine, my Tia. Harry agreed to meeting you and the Weasley wedding will be the perfect place." She smiled into her granddaughter's face and nodded.

"I know, but should we really intrude? I mean, it's a family occasion and I'm not sure that we should," Tia whispered, hoping her grandmother would reassure her.

"We were invited to the wedding. I've known the Weasleys almost as long as the Prewetts, they're distant cousins of your grandfather's. There is nothing odd about us attending this wedding." Grams stated confidently. "Besides, it's high time you were reintroduced to society, to the world. You've barely ventured outside the house since we returned from the island and I thought I'd have to stun you to make the move here." Her hand swept around, indicating her home on the English countryside. "Tia, it's not good for you to stay hidden. You need to be around people, others besides your old grandmother."

Her argument made complete sense, of course, but the fluttering in Tia's stomach hadn't lessened. The thought of mingling out in the open with so many people terrified her. She knew that the world hadn't changed so terribly much since she'd been gone, but she still wasn't looking forward to the looks and reactions of her reappearance. She'd been the gawked at enough in her life.

The sound of the grandfather clock chiming the hour broke into her thoughts. And with a final glance into the floor length mirror and a nod to her Grams, the two women moved to leave for the wedding. Walking outside, past the wards that protected both the house from being discovered by Muggles and wizards alike into the overgrown field bordering the property, the two women turned Disapperating with a soft pop.


	8. Chapter 8

-1After Remus left, Harry mulled over the tale he had told. He had a godmother. A woman who was taken away before his parents. Someone who had reveled in his birth, who saw him as proof of a future. And now, by some miracle of magic or science, she was back.

Damn Voldemort. Damn him and his vicious and cowardly followers. Was there no one in his life that could be considered safe? Not for the first time, Harry was thankful that he'd broken up with Ginny. At least she wouldn't be linked to him now. No more than as the youngest sister of his best friend.

Shaking his head, he picked up the picture that Larentia had sent him. He watched her holding him, letting his tiny fingers tangle in the mass of curls over her shoulder. He noticed again how both Remus and Sirius seemed as enchanted by her as by his infant form. She looked so fragile, as though she couldn't withstand a strong wind much less a powerful curse, but she had. What was so special about this red headed witch and would he ever know her full story?

He set the picture on the table beside his bed and laid back. Tomorrow he'd draft a letter to her, letting her know that he would meet her. Closing his eyes, he let the story Remus told him wash over and gave in to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

-1Larentia focused on the twin redheads that had collected her and Grams from the designated Apparation point. They were cheerful and finished each other's sentences. Were it not for the hole where an ear should be in one's, was it Fred or George, head she would have assumed the talks of war were far from their lives. A glance at the glaring absence and they'd launched into a harrowing tale of Deatheaters and Polyjuice potion. Obviously recognized Grams from Order meetings, Tia thought, smiling at the pair of youthful soldiers for the "Greater Good". Inwardly she cringed. They were so young to be marred by the stains of violent conflict. And her godson had been in the midst of it all.

She let her mind wander as they walked over the slope. She thought about how she'd greet Harry, how she'd talk to him after all this time. Her gaze landed on the homey exterior of what the boys lovingly called "the Burrow" and "home". A large, white tent stood out on the grounds. She could make out five people mingling outside the tent. As they grew nearer, she realized she was looking at two redhead boys, an unnaturally blonde woman, a brown haired young woman, and, she gave an inner gasp, Remus. She'd know him anywhere, from any distance. Her eyes burned with tears.

"You're still early for the wedding," one of the crimson duo, Fred was it, offered.

"But that'll give you plenty of time," George helped.

"To reacquaint yourself with whomever you want to reacquaint yourself with." Fred finished.

A slight smile passed her lips. Don't miss much, these two. Their parents must have the patience of saints. She tore her gaze away from Remus and scanned the faces again. Harry wasn't waiting for her at the tent entrance. Unless he suddenly became a redhead with perfect vision that is.

Remus looked up from his position beside the Polyjuiced Harry and gave a start. Fred and George were escorting Grams, forever the aged elegant lady, who was walking hand in hand with, his breath caught, Larentia. As they drew nearer he couldn't hold back a gasp. Merlin, she was as beautiful as ever.

He was watching them approach, his eyes trained on her. She could practically feel his gaze. Her eyes caught movement to his right and she saw the blonde woman put her hand possessively on his arm. Oh my, she thought slightly taken back, Remus has an admirer.

Finally the were face to face. Remus drank in the vision she presented. Seeing her up close and in person made the past sixteen years all the more bitter. He stood before her aged and broken, no further along than when they last saw each other. She, on the other hand, was as lovely and untouched as before. He didn't even notice Tonk's hand on his arm.

"Hello, Remus." Her voice was huskier than he remembered, but it was still music to his ears. Say it again, his mind begged, say my name again.

Grams greeted the two new redheads and begged to be shown her seat. The shorter, plumper one complied, shooting a curious look back at Remus and Larentia. Fred and George made loud excuses about Apparating French cousins and hastened off. The younger, brown haired woman drug the remaining bemused redhead away amid mutterings of "range of a teaspoon".

"Larentia," Remus said quietly, not trusting himself to say more. He noticed her gaze sliding to his arm and realized there was a hand there. Tonks' hand on his arm, he thought, great.

"Hello," Tia said, offering her hand to Tonks. "I'm Larentia lefae Dorrington."

Tonks shook her hand with her free hand, making sure to not let go of Remus. "Nymphadora Tonks," she said, a curious smile on her lips.

"Tonks? Surely you're not little Dora Tonks, Ted and Andromeda's daughter?" Larentia couldn't hide her shock. She'd babysat the infant Dora, who'd had magenta hair now that she'd remembered. What the bloody hell is Remus doing with the toddler?

Tonks smiled wider. "That's right. Mum and Dad mentioned you before. It's nice to meet you, without the soiled nappies I mean."

Remus smiled, remembering the stories Tia had regaled him with about "little Dora Tonks". Bloody hell, she must think I'm a pervy old bastard. He shrugged Tonks' hand off his arm and addressed Tia.

"It's hard to believe you're here, Tia." His voice was soft with emotion and his hands itched to touch her.

"She stepped closer to him and unable to resist, reached up a hand to cup his cheek. Her thumb smoothed over the lines and scars while her eyes held his. Tonks faded into the background and only the two of them existed. A tear fell from her eye and his thumb swept it from her skin.

"You're real. I just had to be sure," she whispered.

The return of the portly redhead broke the spell. Stepping back from Remus and collecting herself she asked where she could find her godson. A cough came from the forgettable boy who interrupted her moment with Remus. She saw a look pass between the two men and realized she'd found him. Turning to the boy she'd waited so long to meet, she felt a slight disappointment in his disguise.

"Harry?" She asked, already knowing the answer. He nodded as she searched in vain the stranger's face for emerald eyes and unruly hair. "Shall we-" she started, looking around for a place to be alone.

"This way," he said in a voice much like his father before him. He led her behind the tent to a small clearing.

She looked around and, certain they were alone, drew her wand from her pocket. Harry had his drawn in a flash and she chuckled.

"I wasn't going to use it on you, Harry." She flicked the wand at two twigs and two comfortable chairs appeared. "Just thought we could be comfortable while we talk." She sat down and waited for him to do the same.

"Sorry," he said, stowing his wand again. "I can't be too careful, you know."

"She smiled at him, her light green eyes sparkling. "I understand, in fact, I'm happy you're not so quick to trust. These are dangerous times, Harry, especially for you." She reached inside her robes and retrieved three small items. "I told you I had a few things for you. Perhaps I should go ahead and give them to you."

She flicked her wand at each thing and in turn they expanded. In her lap rested a golden ball, a book, and a small square of material. She picked up the ball and handed it to Harry.

"It's your father's snitch. I'm afraid it stopped fluttering when he, well the night he was killed. At least that's what Grams told me." Harry held the small gold ball, so like the one Dumbledore had left him and felt a tightening in his chest. He'd seen his father playing with it, in Snape's pensieve. "James had great hopes for you to be a Quiddich player. I've read that you did play. He would have been so proud."

Tears glistened in her eyes, but she held them at bay. More to give, she thought, then a chance to talk. Harry held tight to the snitch as she passed him the swatch of cloth. It was soft and pale blue. Then he noticed the letters embroidered on the edge "HJP". His thumb traced the letters as Larentia confirmed his suspicions.

"That's the corner of your first blanket. You really put it through the ringer and this was all that Lily-your mum managed to salvage. Your grandmother Potter mad it for you, before she was-before you were born."

So much death for one so young, Tia thought, fingering the book that remained in her lap. In a perfect world Lily, James, and Harry's grandparents would be here sharing the stories of where what came from and why it was important. In a perfect world, Tia would have been there to see Harry grow. But this wasn't a perfect world, Lord Voldemort and the other evil wizards before him made sure of that.

"This," she said, holding out the book for him to take, "is something very special." She watched him trace the "Harry's Baby Book" title. "Open it, you'll understand."

Harry opened the book to a random page. His mother's handwriting looked up at him, but before he could read a single word, her voice filled his ears.

"Harry's eight months old now and he's growing so fast I'm afraid to blink lest I miss anything." Harry's heart lurched, it was his mum, and she was talking to him. Well, about him, actually. "Uncle Padfoot stopped in today with a toy wand that sparks red and green. Harry's been torturing the cat with the lightshow." Another voice broke in and Harry's heart stopped.

"Serves the cat right, crowding him like that." His dad, joking. He looked up at Tia and her wet eyes. A tear slipped down his cheek and he smiled at her. He listened as his parents spoke of all the achievements baby Harry was making and pride was evident in their voices.

"There are a few entries with Sirius and myself." She said, dabbing her eyes with a lacy handkerchief. "It was my gift to your parents when they found out they were having you." She explained, "I never thought-"

"This would be one of the only ways I'd ever hear them," he finished for her, wiping his own eyes on his sleeve. He thought about the night Voldemort returned. This was different. This was definitely happier. "Thank you," he said looking up. "Thank you, Aunt Tia."

Tia let a sob escape as she leaned forward to grab Harry into a hug. They held each other until the tears slowed.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." She whispered, pulling back. "I should have been here for you. I never should have-"

Harry raised his hand to stop her. Shaking his head, he said, "Don't. You don't need to apologize. You couldn't have known."

"But I had my doubts. If I hadn't gone," she started.

"No," he said firmly. "We can't change the past. Looking back and thinking on how we'd do things differently won't change anything. You're back now, that's what's important." He held her hand and realized just how small she was. Her hand fit easily inside his own and even in his shorter Polyjuiced state he stood half a foot taller than her.

"Is there anything you need, Harry? Anything I can do to help you?" Tia asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"I'm not going back to school," he stated. "There's something I need to do, something Dumbledore asked me to do."

She nodded understanding he was telling her all he would. "Is there anything I can do to help? Anything you need before you go?"

Harry shook his head, then looking into his lap at the new treasures, he nodded. "Is there anything I can do to protect these? When they're small or large?"

She smiled and showed him the incantation, along with the same one she used to transfigure the twigs into chairs. He tucked the three newly shrunk and protected treasures in the pouch Hagrid had given him. As they sat together, Harry thought about her and Remus and the intense moment he'd interrupted. Blushing, he thought about asking her if they'd been more than friends.

Tia realized that the silence was feeling awkward and wondered what to talk about. Or maybe they should find their seats for the wedding. Harry cleared his throat and she refocused on him.

"You and, uh, Remus," he started, his blush deepening.

She smiled as she felt her own face heat up. She thought that mind reading would never been needed to gage her reactions to Remus.

"Remus and I, we were," she fiddled with the ring on her finger, "engaged."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

As Larentia explained Remus' place in her former life to Harry, Remus was trying to explain the same situation to a lovesick Tonks.

"Tia, Larentia and I were very close before she fell into the coma." Merlin, this was hard. "We were, I had asked her to be my... we were going to be married."

Tonks gasped and stepped back. She'd seen how they'd looked at each other. All hopes that there was nothing more than a sibling affection in their touch was dashed at learning of their past. A tear slid down her cheek, but there was no tender touch of a thumb to stop its path.

"So that's why..." she managed before biting her lip to keep from sobbing.

"Why I was so firm that there could be nothing more than friendship between us." Remus finished for her, feeling like a cad. He should have explained sooner. Should have told Tonks and Molly all about Tia, about how they were to have been married on the same day that Harry's parents were killed. Should have told them that he couldn't imagine anyone replacing her in his life, even if she never recovered. It was just so hard to talk about her, lying in America unable to know how he felt.

"But I thought...At Dumbledore's funeral," Tonks tried to get her words out. Tried to cling to the tenderness he'd shown her at the funeral.

"You needed comfort. As a _friend_," he emphasized the word,"I could do nothing less than give you as much comfort as I could." Remus looked around from their position at the side of the tent. Guests were arriving rapidly and he wanted nothing more than for this conversation to be over. "You deserve so much more than a broken, old werewolf, Tonks. More than I could ever offer you."

Tonks took a ragged breath. She knew there were no arguments that would change anything. He loved someone else, had loved her for a long time, and now that person was back. From the looks of the moment she witnessed earlier, Tia felt the same thing for Remus. Who was she to stand in their way? Her heart was wounded, but clinging to something that would not be wouldn't help heal it. She gave Remus a watery smile and turned away from the tent.

"Tonks, don't go-the wedding." Remus called. She shook her hair, and as she did the color changed from perky blonde back to a mousy brown that he knew well, and walked away. She couldn't face the happiness of the bride and groom. Not now that her own hopes were dashed. She couldn't stay and witness more moments like the brief one between Remus and Larentia. Her heart wouldn't bear it.

Remus watched her fade into the distance and wished he could have saved her the pain. If only she'd listened to his reasonings sooner. If only he had just told her about Tia. He regretted it, but knew that nothing he could say or do, save change his own heart, would have prevented her heartache.

He thought back to his Hogwarts days. Thought back to another young woman whose heart was set on him. Another try at convincing someone not to love him. Until, he smiled in memory, until her passion had caught him. Until he let himself imagine a possible happy life. A life with love and acceptance. A life that was tore apart by an evil old woman.

And now she was back. Tia was awake, alive, aware. He let his mind focus on her now. Not far from him, talking to Harry and very much here.


End file.
